Page 42

My wolf surges forward, ready to rip him into shreds.

But instead, my hands ball into fists as I shove against his chest with all my strength and press the elevator button over and over.

Julian grunts but chuckles, stepping back as if this is amusing to him.

Then, in some small act of mercy, the Goddess hears my silent plea. The elevator doors open, and I rush out like a woman scorned.

I expect Julian to stay inside, to disappear into whatever hell he crawled out of.

I expect a few minutes of peace, just to breathe and gather my thoughts.

But of course, Julian Hells has never cared about what I want.

The bastard follows me right out onto the top floor, where it’s just the two of us, and I curse under my breath.

He steps around me. His hand reaches out, fingers grazing the air between us, trying to touch me.

I hiss, stepping back. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Fine, no touching. No touching,” he says, raising his hands in mock surrender, but the smirk on his face tells me he’s not done. “Still, this has to be the best thing that’s happened to me in six years. Baby, you are even more beautiful than I remember.”

“Baby?” The chuckle that leaves my lips is sharp and mocking. “I stopped being anything to you the moment you fucked another woman in our apartment. Remember that, Julian? Because I sure as hell do.”

He ignores my words, stepping closer, eating up the space between us. My pulse spikes with rage.

“Don’t be like that, baby. I admit, I made a fucking mistake—”

“A mistake?” I cut him off, the vitriol in my voice loud and clear. “A mistake is forgetting an anniversary or leaving the toilet seat up. A mistake is not fucking another woman when you knew I loved you and thought you were my whole damn world.” I pause, watching his expression twist, like he’s offended by the truth. “It doesn’t matter anymore. What’s done is done, Julian.”

His nostrils flare. The storm in his eyes brews darker, and I suddenly remember how dangerous his temper can be.

Julian has always been a brooding, hot-tempered bastard. And I had been one of those stupid girls who thought they were enough to change a man’s personality.

And that temper of his is enough to make him grip my wrist before I can avoid it. In one hard yank, he pulls me to him, our bodies pressed together, his fingers digging into my waist.

“What do you mean ‘we’re done’?” Julian’s voice is low, smeared with something ugly. “I made one mistake. I got in bed with someone else, and that’s not a fucking big deal. What? You want to tell me you’ve been celibate all these years? That you haven’t spread your legs for another man?”

His words slice into me like a blade. My throat tightens, and my mind flashes back to him.

Alaric.

The memory of him burns through me like fire. The feel of his touch, the way he made me forget that night, replaces every bad emotion in my body.

But with the way Julian is framing it, he makes it seem like I was the one who cheated. Like he wasn’t the one who destroyed something beautiful.

Julian mistakes my silence for weakness. He leans in, pressing his face into the crook of my neck before inhaling deeply.

“Mmm,” he hums. “You still smell like flowers, baby.”

Revulsion spikes through me. I struggle against him, but his grip tightens.

“Let go of me.”

“I married Aisha because I was forced to,” he says, voice dripping with frustration. “She got pregnant. We had no choice. But then she miscarried, and our marriage became one bigfucking joke. I made one mistake, Lila. One. And I regret it. I want you back, baby.”

I don’t hesitate. This time, I do what I should have done when I first saw him.

My palm connects with his cheek in a brutal slap. The sharp sound cracks through the air and reverberates around us like a ping pong ball.